


the james braincell

by starklystar



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 2012 era fic, Blind Date, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Very seriously. There’s actually powerpoint slides and everything, With each other, also rated teen and up because, but tony’s ass is steve’s favorite place, so enjoy them bonding over, steve’s ass might be america’s ass, their most hopeless white boys, there is no canon timeline because canon is invalid, we don’t have enough of rhodey and bucky friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starklystar/pseuds/starklystar
Summary: “Right. How do we get them to admit they love each other?”In front of him, Bucky brings out a metal flask and takes a swig out of it. “Hell if I know. You’re the genius who went to MIT.”“I studied aerospace engineering,” Rhodey rolls his eyes, “not how to get two idiots to kiss.”-------Or, Bucky and Rhodey are the braincells.In a desperate last ditch attempt, they set Steve and Tony up for a blind date.Steve and Tony don't know that their date is each other. But they might have a braincell of their own. Might.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, very minor buckysam and carolrhodey
Comments: 100
Kudos: 822
Collections: the stevetony social media(ish) fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venusiaries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusiaries/gifts).



> inspired by Nona's [amazing art](https://noririna.tumblr.com/post/622183546414645248/its-a-pirate-au-babey-plus-some-extras). unfortunately not a pirate AU coz i cannot do justice to that.
> 
> also i'm sorry i don't know what this is. the jameses took my only braincell. sorry i forgot to include a summary when i posted. it is up now :)
> 
> chapter 2 has the angst and actual plot and will be up (hopefully) next week.

“Do you think Steve can see my ass from there?”

Rhodey sighs, taking a long drink from his glass. He remembers a time when galas were less tiring and more entertaining. Watching Tony slyly use his sharp tongue against pompous politicians was an art form worth coming to these galas for, unlike this incessant pining that Rhodey now has to endure day in and day out.

They’re facing each other: Tony’s back and, more importantly, his perfectly framed ass facing Steve and Bucky on the other side of the ballroom, with Rhodey assigned to watching how tall, blonde, and – debatably – handsome reacts.

“Steve has supersoldier sight,” he shrugs, eyeing the mini cupcakes on the dessert table. They might provide enough distraction to soothe his tired nerves.

Tony shifts around, dissatisfied. “Yeah, but is he _looking_? Otherwise, there’s no point.”

Well, there _was_ some entertainment in watching Tony pine, Rhodey relents to himself.

Something proud bloomed in Rhodey’s smile. Turning his attention back to his friend, he lets himself share in the miracle of the moment.

He didn’t think he’d ever see the day that his best friend found someone remotely worthy of him – although Rhodey couldn’t quite decide whether Steve’s foolish obliviousness made him less worthy of Tony or _more_ worthy because Tony was equally oblivious.

Sometimes, two hopeless people deserved each other.

“You know,” he fondly rolls his eyes, “you could check for yourself.”

“Rhodey, the last time I turned to look at him, he _glared_ at me,” Tony pouts.

“When Steve glares, it matters. When I glare, you laugh.”

“Honeybear, I know that your love for me has no bounds. Steve doesn’t love me. Yet.”

“My sanity has some bounds though,” Rhodey mutters under his breath. Distantly, he wonders what Steve was talking about with Bucky. He hopes Tony’s ass _is_ driving Steve crazy, because Rhodey refuses to be the only one suffering from their pining.

Tony snorts incredulously. “Do you recall Professor Gill’s class?”

Rhodey decides it’s best if they both forgot about Professor Gill. “If Steve doesn’t love you, why are you so hung up on him?”

It’s mostly a rhetorical question. The exact reasons have been explained repeatedly to Rhodey, and he’s grateful when Tony doesn’t launch into another soliloquy about Steven Grant Rogers.

“That’s step four of the plan,” Tony huffs. “He has to like me first.”

“Tony Stark actually planning something?” Rhodey teases, laughing when Tony scowls.

“I’m also planning how to poison your food.”

Laughing harder, Rhodey leans on Tony’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t. ‘Cause then you’d only have Pepper, and she’s _not_ going to put up with this.”

“Don’t tell Pepper about my plan,” Tony plaintively pleads.

“Then don’t talk anymore about your ass tonight. I’ve seen enough of it for a lifetime.”

“You love my ass. You keep saving it.”

That’s as much of a _thank you_ that Rhodey can expect for tonight, and he accepts it warmly.

Days like these, he can almost forget being superheroes or the universe ending.

Here again is the young man Rhodey had stumbled upon all those years ago, with a heart that loved so freely and a mind as whip smart as his tongue was sharp. If Steve Rogers was what it took to bring that Tony back from the melancholy and the nightmares that haunted him so often these days, then Rhodey was more than willing to help.

Except, perhaps in a way that involved less ass and more talking.

* * *

“You know,” Bucky notes as lightly as he can, “if you hold that glass any tighter, it’s going to shatter.”

Steve doesn’t seem to listen, far too busy frowning at the other end of the room. For a fundraiser’s gala, neither of the Avengers seemed to be doing much to raise funds, apparently preferring to quietly moon over each other from a distance.

Well. _Not_ quietly, Bucky revises as Steve sighs again. “Rhodey was glaring at me and now Tony is looking at me.”

That made little sense. Fixing a stern glare at Steve, he asks, “don’t you want him to look at you?”

“Yes, but not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s frustrated.”

“Sexually frustrated,” Bucky mutters.

He’s seen Tony Stark annoyed, and he’s seen Tony Stark choke when Steve bent over to pick up a wrench from the workshop floor. For a tactical genius, Bucky wonders how Steve couldn’t see Tony’s attraction to him. Sure, Steve might not be used to receiving _that_ kind of attention, but Tony hadn’t been covert with his special attention for a certain supersoldier.

And after everything Bucky has seen since he escaped HYDRA, he knows that no one could be as deserving of Steve as Tony was – no matter what Tony chose to portray his Stark persona as, he was selfless, kind and true. Even if the selfless part was becoming a problem with him thinking that Steve deserved better.

“He’s probably upset that Rhodey wouldn’t dance with him,” Steve scoops at his cake forlornly.

 _Oh God_.

Steve _definitely_ deserved Tony. How much longer did Bucky have to put up with this before they got over their mutual hopelessness?

Really, Bucky _is_ happy for Steve finally finding love.

However, he would be far happier if Steve would go kiss Tony so Bucky could figure out how to kiss a certain former pararescue pilot.

Nudging at Steve pointedly with his elbow, Bucky raises a brow. “He’s very clearly angling his ass at you, Stevie.”

That works the opposite of what Bucky was aiming for. If anything, Steve’s face grows more pinched, lips thinning in dissatisfaction.

“Yeah, but I don’t want his ass – well, I do, but I want his smile too.”

“Ask him for a dance then.”

“I’ll step on his toes.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky grinds out tiredly, “that man blew his way out of a cave and trekked through the desert for days. He can handle having his toes being stepped on.”

“That’s the point,” Steve miserably stabs his blueberry cake. “He _shouldn’t_ have to handle it.”

It takes all of Bucky’s restraint not to bang his head against the table. Pepper would have his arm if he destroyed the floral arrangements. Instead, Bucky takes three deep, long calming breaths, casting his gaze desperately around the room, searching for Sam or Natasha or _anyone_ who might help him knock some sense into Steve.

Across the room, he meets Rhodey’s eyes.

He doesn’t know the Colonel very well, largely because Tony monopolises Rhodey’s time whenever he comes by the Tower, but maybe, he was the key that Bucky needed to figure out how to get Steve to kiss Tony.

Maybe Bucky had been thinking about it all along: it could actually be a problem of how to get _Tony_ to kiss Steve.

As discreetly as possible Bucky tips his head towards Steve, a silent plea for help.

Slowly, Rhodey tips his own head towards Tony, nodding grimly back at Bucky.

A bright hope flares. He’s found an ally, a kindred soul in this suffering.

“Hey Steve?” Bucky asks with a smile, grinning at the slightly panicked look in his friend’s eyes, “I’m going to go talk with Rhodey.”

Eyes wide, Steve catches Bucky’s arm. “You _promised_ not to tell Tony.”

“Relax. I’ll just distract the Colonel so you can have Tony to yourself.”

 _Preferably, you’d find the wits to declare your undying love without me having to declare a State of Emergency_ , Bucky quietly adds in his head.

Steve dubiously gazes across the room again, but his lack of an immediate argument speaks volumes.

When Bucky tugs him along towards Tony, Steve follows reluctantly, and Bucky thinks, _hopes_ , that there might remain a real chance of a quick ending to all this.

* * *

He's wrong.

All Steve does is offer another blueberry cake to Tony and turn red when Tony moans around a forkful of cake.

* * *

They were in the Tower’s common room when they met. The team was piled together for the start of a Movie Night, and Bucky had just come home from an exhausting therapy session, but he had enough presence of mind to salute.

“Colonel.”

Rhodey’s eyes assess Bucky’s position on the couch next to Sam before he strides over to the empty spot Tony saved for him. Bucky tries his best not to wilt under the sternness of the gaze. There’s a clear warning, a fierce protectiveness over Tony that Bucky knows not to cross. 

Something in Bucky must satisfy the Colonel because, at last, he nods. “Sergeant.”

They hold the gaze for a few more seconds before Tony pushes the popcorn bowl into Rhodey’s hands with a smirk. “Stop the dick measuring contest. We already know Air Force is better than Army.”

From Tony’s other side, Steve frowns. “You don’t have any proof.”

“There’s nothing to prove. Rhodey’s in Air Force,” Tony pats Steve’s shoulder consolingly. “Incidentally, so was your buddy Wilson.”

The frown on Steve’s face grows deeper, and Bucky feels compelled to cut in before Steve can act even more like a besotted fool. It’s unusual that Steve ever gets jealous of anybody. It’s also unusual that Steve is _this_ infatuated with someone.

Still, one of them should at least remember their manners. If sometimes Bucky has the step up, then he supposes it's his occasional duty as a friend.

“Call me James, or, if you’d like, Bucky.”

“I’m a James too,” Rhodey laughs ruefully, the tension breaking, “but thanks to _this_ genius, no one calls me that.”

Tony shifts around in the couch, leaning on Rhodey and jostling Steve – whose ears have taken on a curious shade of pink – in the process.

“James is a boring name, Rhodeybear.”

“Want to take that up with my mom?” Rhodey asks around a mouthful of popcorn.

Immediately, Tony pulls away, horrified. “No, thanks.”

“Thought so,” Rhodey grins victoriously. Then, to the rest of the Avengers, he explains, “we had a very interesting Spring Break together.”

The pink shade on Steve’s ears grows deeper, and Bucky thinks, _oh no_.

* * *

“Tony is too self-sacrificing,” Rhodey doesn’t bother with niceties, going straight to the heart of the matter as he slumps into the coffeeshop chair across Bucky.

It’s been two days since the Gala.

Between listening to Tony mope about Steve and managing the errant divisions of the Air Force, he hasn’t had much sleep. It doesn’t help that Carol is stopping by for a mission on Knowhere, with a time difference that changes every day, sending his schedule haywire.

Meeting outside of the Tower was the safest way to go undetected by Tony, who was always keenly curious of whatever Rhodey did with ‘ _the other side_ ’. Nursing his cup of strong coffee, Rhodey laments all the time lost from not actively working together with Bucky to achieve a common goal.

“And Steve is an idiot who thinks Tony deserves better,” Bucky adds.

They really _were_ a match made in hell. Martyrs who didn’t realise that their happiness stood right in front of them.

Rhodey wonders how the public would react knowing that the superheroes they adored suffered from the very human failing of emotional stunting sprinkled with childhood trauma.

“Right. How do we get them to admit they love each other?”

In front of him, Bucky brings out a metal flask and takes a swig out of it. “Hell if I know. You’re the genius who went to MIT.”

“I studied aerospace engineering,” Rhodey rolls his eyes, “not how to get two idiots to kiss.”

“Fair enough,” Bucky concedes. “What about we lock them in a broom closet together?”

Rhodey massages his temples wearily. “Tony blew his way out of a cave. Do you think he couldn’t blow his way out of a _closet?_ ”

“True,” Bucky sullenly agrees. “Steve would punch his way out, too.”

When Rhodey had mentioned the problem to Carol, she had lightly offered to lend Goose. Something about alien cats being perfect bonding material.

Fury, however, had overheard the call, and his horrified face told Rhodey to table the idea only for the most desperate of plans.

Some ideas flick through Rhodey’s mind. They might have to bring Pepper and Sam in on this, or even Natasha if things escalated further. A wardrobe makeover might be needed, a mixed-up date – some real jealousy was maybe needed to push them over the edge.

“Tony’s been trying to get Steve to notice his ass.”

“I noticed,” Bucky grits out. Then, gears turn, puzzle pieces slotting into place. Finally, a small smile. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

Rhodey grins.

* * *

“Sam,” Rhodey extends a hand across the table. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting.”

“By how much Steve talks about Tony and you, I feel like we _have_ met, Colonel.”

Rhodey laughs. He certainly knows how much Tony talks about Sam too. “Call me James. Or if Tony’s already gotten to you, there’s no saving you and you can call me Rhodey.”

“Bucky told me this was about business?”

At the head of the conference table, Pepper nods. She motions at one of the cameras to bring up a hologram. “Rhodey and Bucky have kindly prepared a presentation for today’s agenda.”

“What?” Rhodey shrugs innocently, “I made it in a hurry. I _do_ have an Air Force to command.”

“And I’m from the ‘40s. I don’t know how Powerpoint works,” Bucky echoes his innocence.

“Nobody believes that argument, _James_ – both of you – but I have another shareholder’s meeting in thirty minutes, so let’s finish quickly, why don’t we?” Pepper says, but from the twitch of her lips, Rhodey knows that the shareholders are going to have to wait.

Pepper wasn’t Tony’s friend for nothing.

As she once put it: Tony was the serotonin to their braincells.

His abruptness and bright-eyed passion, his earnestness and wicked humor, were a breath of fresh air in a dull world.

While Pepper often had to pretend that she didn’t enjoy Tony’s chaos, Rhodey knows her far better than that.

She’s as invested in this as any of them are.

“Let me start with a brief reminder of our subjects,” Rhodey waves over to the next slide.

Sam stares dubiously at the screen. “How is Steve only _supposedly_ hot?”

Bucky frowns. He hadn’t known that Steve was Sam’s type. “Rhodey put that in.”

“I’ve heard too much about his hotness to find him hot,” Rhodey defends himself. “Now, for any constructive criticism?”

Pepper raises her hand. “How about we start from scratch?”

* * *

“So,” Steve clears his throat. “You were out with Rhodey today.”

 _Hook, line, and sinker_ , Bucky thinks amusedly. It was almost too easy to get Steve to take the bait.

“Stevie, I love you, but you’ve never known _subtle_.”

Steve takes a couch pillow, throwing it at Bucky’s head. He misses, and the pillow lands miserably on the floor. “I can be subtle. Tony’s proof of that.”

“Tony is an oblivious _idiot_ and the rest of the world can see you’re in love with him.”

“He not an idiot – ”

“ _Subtle_ ,” Bucky grins.

Steve shoves him off the couch.

“Keep doing that and I won’t tell you what secrets Rhodey told me.”

Crossing his arms, Steve makes a face. “Fine.”

“I’ll tell you if you agree to go on a blind date with a friend of Rhodey’s.”

Steve’s face turns even more sour. “Natasha tried getting me to date other people. It didn’t help.”

 _Yes_ , Bucky heard about that lady from accounting. “Your type is apparently sassy, smart brunettes,” he tries to reason. “Rhodey knows a lot of smart people.”

“Does Rhodey think Tony doesn’t like me?”

Sam was right. Steve _would_ end up thinking of it that way. They needed damage control before the entire plan backfired led to Steve spending their meticulously crafted weekend moping instead of getting Tony’s prized ass.

“No,” Bucky quickly explains, “Rhodey thinks you need practice at wooing men.”

“Do you really think it will help?”

 _It would help more if you just asked Tony out yourself_. “Yes.”

“Fine,” Steve relents as mulishly as before.

“Promise me?” Bucky wheedles.

“I promise.”

“Perfect. Because the date’s tomorrow, and Sam’s waiting downstairs to give you a makeover.”

“Hey!” Steve protests indignantly, “you promised to tell me what Rhodey told you.”

“We can do that on the way to the store,” Bucky laughs, winking at the camera for JARVIS.

* * *

Rhodey doesn’t need to wait long before Tony marches into the kitchen, hands on his hips with an air of extreme betrayal.

“What did you talk about with Bucky?”

Stirring the pot of pasta, Rhodey smothers his own smile. “Hello to you, too. We talked about you.”

“ _Me?_ ”

“You’re what we have in common. Of course we talked about you.”

Tony takes out a large bowl and two plates, an old habit from their days in the MIT dorms: for the safety of everyone involved, Rhodey did the cooking, and Tony helped prepare the dishes. He used to also be on dishwashing duty until he reinvented a dishwasher complete with an AI. The renowned S.O.A.P. (Self-Operating Abyss for Plates) still adorned the kitchen at Rhodey’s mother’s house.

“ _Details_ , Colonel. Full debrief, now.”

“Well, for one, Steve is going on a date tomorrow,” Rhodey begins carefully.

He feels a twinge of guilt at how Tony’s face crumples in on itself, and while Tony tries his best at a brave face, he had never been good at hiding anything from Rhodey, and his misery bleeds into his words. “I did tell you he isn’t interested in me.”

“Bucky baited him into it.”

Half a lie, but still half a truth.

“Bucky is an ungrateful peasant,” Tony mutters angrily. For a second, Rhodey thinks he needs to remind Tony of his company’s strict No Murder policy. But the next second, the tension bleeds away into defeat. “If he thinks the person would make Steve happy. Then – ”

Tony shrugs helplessly.

Turning off the stove, Rhodey gestures for the bowl, which Tony brings over sullenly.

“You know what would work?” Rhodey asks as he scoops the pasta from the pan into the bowl.

“What?”

“Go out with another blond hunk. Show Steve what he’s missing out on. Have a good time getting to know someone else.”

A surprised snort. “I thought you’d suggest talking with Steve.”

“I’ve suggested that _many_ times before,” Rhodey pointedly emphasizes, “and you seem to never listen to reason. So I thought why not something unreasonable?”

Tony makes a noncommittal noise, trudging along after Rhodey to the dining table. They sit next to each other, Tony clearly torn between pieces of himself.

Rhodey had prepared for that, though, purposefully cooking the familiar pasta to mollify him. Eventually, Tony properly settles into the chair, picking up a fork. “Thank you for coming by and cooking.”

“You can thank me by going out with this friend of mine. His name is also Steve. If romance doesn’t work out, I think you’d still be great friends.”

 _His last name happens to be Rogers and his middle name is ‘in-love-with-Tony’_.

Squinting suspiciously at him, Tony scoops the pasta eagerly onto a plate. “Why have you never mentioned him before? Should I be jealous of anything?”

“You were too busy with _your_ Steve,” Rhodey deflects. Tony was to preoccupied to notice his tells. “Seriously. You need to go out. Stop being cooped up and stressed inside.”

“I don’t think you liked it the last time I was stressed outdoors.”

“You know what I mean.”

Tony gives him a crooked smile. It was still shadowed by his misery over Steve seemingly finding someone else, but it was real. “I know. Now tell me about Carol.”

Rhodey decides he’s pushed enough for today.

He wants Tony to be happy, but he’s fluent in Tony’s language of pushing and pulling. After all, Rhodey knows the young boy who dreamed of the stars, who grew up to be the man who thought he was no longer worthy of the stars.

There’s a lot to say. The most important is: “She’s desperate to hear from you.”

“Tell her I’m doing fine,” Tony says around his mouthful of pasta. The pasta does nothing to hide the pleased note in his words.

It’s always nice knowing someone cares about you. Rhodey only wishes that Tony would realise more people loved him.

“She wants you to be doing better than fine.”

 _We all do_.

“Tell her I’m with you, then.”

When Tony gives him another crooked smile, Rhodey decides more firmly than ever that he’s going to do whatever it takes to get Steve to act on his feelings for Tony.

If it took setting Goose on both of them, so be it. If Rhodey had to bargain with Strange to create a new mirror dimension to shove both of them inside, he was ready.

Besides, how hard could it be to get Tony to be happy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answer: as hard as it is to get Steve to be happy.
> 
> if you can't see the powerpoint slides i so meticulously created, you can [find them on my tumblr](https://starklysteve.tumblr.com/tagged/my-edits) :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was filled with so much second hand embarassment for them while i wrote this, i'm so sorry sdlkfndlksdf anyway, enjoy! chapter 3 is gonna be a sort of epilogue with more powerpoints so 👀

Tony has done one night stands before.

The mechanics of it isn’t hard. Two people sharing a good time. Casual, no emotional investment. Or, if by the end of the night they didn’t feel like taking it to the bedroom, they could part ways, maybe become friends.

Rhodey had said that mystery Steve was familiar with vibranium research, and making friends outside the superhero circle _was_ something Tony hadn’t done in a long time. Maybe it would actually help him take his mind off Steve Rogers.

Or not.

Because Steve Rogers walks out to the Tower’s private lobby – where Tony is waiting for Happy to arrive, and is now cursing whatever higher powers thought to play this forsaken joke at him.

Steve gives a small wave, shy, his shoulders hunched in uncharacteristically. 

The closer Steve gets, the more Tony curses. He’s never seen Steve wearing that suit before, or those jeans.

_What does it say about him that he’s memorised Steve’s wardrobe?_

Suddenly, he feels woefully underdressed in his simple band shirt. He wants some sunglasses to cover the truth that his eyes so easily betrays, but it’s too little, too late. Steve is standing right in front of him and Tony’s mind struggles to compute.

“You look good,” Tony swallows thickly, hoping he doesn’t sound too unusual.

The suit was well cut, the blue perfectly matched with Steve’s eyes. The top button of his white dress shirt was undone – apparently a tie was too formal for a casual date, but driving Tony mad with the hint of skin was acceptable.

 _He’s not yours to have_ , Tony has to remind himself miserably. 

Maybe this wasn’t as good an idea as he thought. He should call Rhodey, cancel the plan and have ice cream for dinner instead.

“You think so?” Steve’s face lights up, words tumbling out of him, “Sam and Bucky took me shopping yesterday. I wasn’t so sure it would work out.”

Why did Steve bother to dress up if he wasn’t truly interested in the person he was meeting? 

The only other time Steve dressed up was to go to formal events. Even then, he hadn’t bothered going to the effort of shopping for new clothes.

After all, Tony had been the one trying for years to drag Steve out for a shopping trip. And he always failed hopelessly.

“You’d look good in anything,” Tony replies, stilted, “even in nothing.”

Steve lets out a startled laugh. Tony feels horror well up in him.

Scrambling to cover up, Tony adds, “I mean, it’s about time they threw out those plain white shirts.”

“They’re practical,” Steve argues the exact argument he’s used a thousand times before.

The familiarity is relieving as much as it is painful and jarring.

Tony doesn’t want to lose his friendship with Steve for anything – he’s survived this long loving Steve quietly, he’s seen Natasha set Steve up with a rotation of various people, so why is it so hard for him to keep his cool this time around?

He has to get a grip before all of this unravels.

Pasting on a forced smile, Tony tries his best to mean his words. 

“Well. Have fun on your date. Don’t forget to use a shield.”

As soon as the words come out, Tony winces again. How did he get so terrible at this so quickly?

“What shield?” Steve asks.

Tony clears his throat pointedly. “Protection.”

A flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks.

“Oh. No,” Steve shakes his head resolutely. “I’m just – I’m not. I’m not interested about doing that with strangers.”

“You’ve got the whole night to acquaint yourself,” Tony points out. 

A whole entire night to possibly fall in love with someone that isn’t Tony. Perfect.

“Yeah.” For some reason, Steve sounds the slightest bit upset. “Are you going somewhere?”

Small talk. Tony can do this. He’s done small talk with people he likes far less than Steve. He’s spent his entire life doing small talk. This has to be child’s play compared to saving the world.

“I’m waiting for Happy,” he explains lamely.

Steve shuffles on his feet, unsure. “Late meeting? I thought Pepper said you’d be working less and resting more.”

“No, just a casual dinner.” _To get over you_. Okay, nevermind. Nothing about this is easy. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Tony rocks back on his heels, changing gears. “Shouldn’t you get going?”

“I guess I should.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, as if reluctant to leave. 

They stand silently for twelve awkward seconds – Tony counted – with Steve’s eyes drifting down to the arc reactor shining through Tony’s shirt, and Tony feeling his own eyes drawn to Steve’s collarbone peeking out from behind his dress shirt.

“Uh,” Tony says to break the quiet. “If supervillains crash the date, you know who to call.”

Steve blinks. “Yeah, I do.” His brows furrow slightly. He opens his mouth once, closes it again with a small wince.

Tony is about to ask him what's wrong when a half-smile curves Steve's lips upward, wistful and final.

“Have a good night, Shellhead.”

The nickname sends a bittersweet warmth stuttering in Tony’s overused heart. 

Whatever happens tonight, he’ll always have Steve as a friend. And eventually, Tony would figure out once more how to be satisfied with only that.

He wishes Steve wouldn’t leave.

Wishes he could have the courage to ask, wishes for more and less at the same time. But he also wishes for Steve to finally find the right partner, the kind of happiness that wouldn’t be thwarted by the world ending. Steve deserves a safety and a home that Tony, by definition of his job, couldn’t possibly give him.

So Tony gives Steve what he can: a crooked smile, not quite happy, but accepting.

“You too, Winghead.”

* * *

When Steve walks out of the lobby, he turns back to wave goodbye.

Tony nearly asks him to stay.

* * *

“This is a painful to watch,” Bucky groans.

The lobby’s video feed that JARVIS so kindly provided is projected on the holoscreen in front of them, their bodies piled together on the Tower’s common floor couch, five boxes of pizza ready for a long night staking out their targets.

“This is an invasion of privacy,” Sam mutters in return.

Rhodey waves his pizza in Sam’s face. 

“Do you know what’s an invasion of privacy? Me having to listen to Tony talk about the angles of your friend’s ass and cheekbones and biceps and – ”

“Okay, I get it,” Sam laughs. “But are you _sure_ this is working? Because they don’t seem to be kissing yet.”

In the video feed, Steve and Tony stand five feet away from the lobby, Steve’s face distinctly uncomfortable, Tony’s expression equally pinched.

“It’ll work. JARVIS hacked into the diner’s cameras already. We just have to watch closely and send reinforcements if needed.”

“By reinforcements you mean Pepper and Natasha?” Sam confirms.

“Yes,” Bucky nods. “They’re the final line of defense.”

He takes the beer bottle Sam hands him, using his metal arm as a bottle opener. Then, he opens another one for Rhodey, who gratefully accepts it.

“Or,” Rhodey considers after a long swig of his beer, “I can whack some sense into Steve. I think Shuri would be willing to make me a vibranium baseball bat.”

Sam eyes the image of Tony’s forlorn figure. “I vaguely remember Stark Industries has a No Murder policy?”

“Steve’s a supersoldier,” Bucky points out pragmatically, “he’ll only get a concussion, and I get a three-hour break from his moping.”

“ _Superheroes_ ,” Sam laments, “more like _superhelpless_.”

* * *

Steve fiddles with the napkin in front of him, bouncing his leg impatiently. Carmine’s is a familiar diner – Tony often took the Avengers here or ordered in to the Tower from the small Italian place tucked away in a lesser known corner of Times Square.

It’s the only redeeming feature of the night. The checkered red-and-white floor of the diner is calming as he waits for Rhodey’s friend to arrive. Maybe if he is this nervous, he _does_ need more practice at dating before he tries to ask out Tony – who has the world’s most experience in dating and charming people of _both_ genders.

He’s been given the only private seat in the place, courtesy of Bucky’s reservation. 

The small table for two people is curtained off from the rest of the restaurant, and Steve wonders if that helps or not. He doesn’t have to panic every time he sees someone walk into the diner.

At the same time, he finds his gaze fixed on the curtains, dreading it when feet walk past the gap between the fabric and the floor.

“You’ve punched dinosaurs,” Steve whispers to himself. “Held crying babies and talked with alien gods. You can have a nice conversation with a stranger.”

The glass of water that the waiter had poured him is half-drained already. Steve checks his phone. He’s only been sitting here for seven minutes.

Still, he unlocks it and drafts a message to Bucky. 

He erases it, then types a new one in, less impatient and more understanding. 

He’s debating whether to put an emoji in when –

“ _Steve?_ ”

Steve jumps, his knee knocking on the table as he stands, startled by the sudden intrusion. 

He only just manages to keep his glass from spilling when he looks up and –

 _That’s Tony’s voice_ , his mind processes belatedly. _And that’s Tony standing there_.

“Tony? Did you follow me here?”

He hates how trapped he sounds trapped, but he’s racing to figure out why on God’s green earth Tony was here. It’s too much of a coincidence for it to be a coincidence, and simultaneously, there is no possible way that _Tony Stark_ would agree to go on a date with Steve.

“Follow you?” Tony blinks back at him. His hand is still holding the curtains that he shifted aside. “My date – meeting was supposed to be here.”

 _Oh_. Confusion wars with disappointment, settling into a cold pit in Steve’s stomach, the chill of the ice coming back.

Tony had a date.

Was it supposed to be a secret? 

Nobody on the team knew, and the way Tony had tried to disguise his date as a meeting – why did Steve always have to wait too long?

“Have a good night, then.”

He had said those words to Tony less than an hour ago. They had been warm and fond. 

Now, they feel heavy and useless.

“No,” Tony shakes his head. “Rhodey reserved _this_ spot for me.”

There’s a tinge to Tony’s voice that Steve has never been able to ignore, that slight inflection of his voice that spells distress, and Steve pushes away his own panic to soothe Tony’s worries away.

“I’ll call Bucky,” Steve offers.

Tony nods sharply. “I’ll call Rhodey.”

His unhappiness at seeing Steve is painful – Tony must really have been looking forward to his date – and Steve gratefully distracts himself.

The screen of his phone still has his unsent message to Bucky. He quickly presses the little call button. 

It takes three torturously long rings for the phone to connect – Steve and Tony staring speechlessly at each other, their devices pressed to their ears. It’s an even more awkward parody of their stilted conversation in the lobby.

The dread in Steve’s stomach grows as the dial tone stretches. Tony drums his hands against his leg. Steve resists the urge to do the same.

There are the other patrons of the diner glancing warily at the two of them, which prompts Tony to walk slightly further away from Steve, perhaps to try get some modicum of privacy as he calls his friend.

 _Finally_ , the call connects, and Steve hurries to ask.

“Bucky, I think there’s been a mix up of some sort, and – ”

“Wrong James.”

“What?”

“This is Colonel James Rhodes, and yes, Tony is talking with Bucky right now.”

Steve checks the screen of his phone, glaring accusingly at the picture of Bucky on it.

And if Steve focused enough, he could hear Tony’s outraged ‘ _Bucky?_ ’ over the chatter of the diner. A waitress comes to ask Tony if he needs help, Tony waves her away with a distracted smile. 

None of this made any sense.

“Rhodey?” Steve says, trying to figure out the mess that the night so far had been. 

Why would Tony be in the same diner as Steve, why would Rhodey have Bucky’s phone, unless –

“Your blind date is Tony.” Rhodey bluntly tells him, sounding tired and amused. 

In the background of the call, Steve thinks he hears Sam laughing about something, and he tries to picture the three of them scheming together.

“I thought Bucky said I needed practice!” Steve defends himself indignantly. “And Tony said he has a date meeting with someone else.”

Most days, he has a very healthy dose of respect for Rhodey. The man not only is in charge of the Air Force, he also happens to have a multi-billion-dollar suit of armor, _and_ access to all of Tony’s explosives.

Tony says Steve should relax more around Rhodey.

Respectfully, Steve disagrees.

After all, the Colonel is Tony’s closest family. Staying in Rhodey’s good books was necessary if Steve wanted to stay alive or have any hope of getting closer to Tony.

Today, though, he feels nervous, tense, and quite possibly in a mood for a sparring session with one James Buchanan Barnes. His mind has limited room for respect. Only room for a panic that he doesn’t quite know how to keep down.

“We decided that since you can’t seem to ask Tony out yourself,” Rhodey explains in a long-suffering tone, “we’d skip that step and jump straight to the date. He thinks he’s meeting a Steve who’s an expert in vibranium.”

“But what if he doesn’t want this?”

Because Steve is _not_ ready at all for this date. 

Is he overdressed? Tony is only wearing a simple shirt, and Steve is all dressed up like this. In his defense, Tony _had_ said he liked how Steve looked, but Tony had also been staring at the unbuttoned part of Steve’s shirt that Bucky and Sam both agreed would look more fashionable if unbuttoned.

Did Tony think Steve was trying too hard to look good? And Tony had been so miserably shocked at seeing Steve at the table, surely it couldn’t be –

“Rogers,” the name comes as a command, Rhodey used to snapping his airmen to attention, “if I have to stay awake listening to Tony wax poetic about your eyes or your face or your heart, or god forbid your other body parts again, I’m going to evict you from this planet.”

“Tony talks about my eyes,” Steve repeats. 

He isn’t sure if it’s a question or him trying to figure out the reality of this. 

Another sigh from Rhodey.

“You know, he wasn’t joking when he made your Tower access code ‘Captain Handsome’.”

Tony had meant that truthfully? Steve stares at the back of Tony’s head, quickly looking away when Tony sneaks wary a glance back at him.

“I don’t do well on dates.”

It’s a weak excuse, one last defense to try stop this night from spiralling further into a disaster.

“Are you _asking_ for dating advice?” Rhodey asks incredulously, rhetorically. “Steve, you’re going to do fine. You know Tony’s favorite order, right?”

“Seafood risotto,” Steve answers quickly. “No onions.”

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Rhodey begins lightly. “Unless you hurt him.” His voice, while perfectly friendly and diplomatic, takes a sharper edge. “In which case, there is nowhere far enough in this multiverse that you can run away from me.”

Despite the threat, the approval from Rhodey helps.

The message there is clear: Steve knows Tony. 

They’re friends, and the connection, the mutual understanding are all a strong foundation to build something different. 

This is hardly the first dinner they’ve had with just the two of them, and for the first time tonight, Steve finds a small flare of hope that this might not be the last.

Tony sneaks another glance back at Steve. 

This time, his frown is gone and he has a wide grin that he aims straight at Steve. 

Steve finds himself smiling back as the hope grows larger.

“Thank you, Colonel.”

On the phone, Rhodey huffs. “Thank me by making Tony happy.”

“That’s all I want too.”

“Good. Now, why are you still talking to me?”

* * *

“So,” Tony clears his throat.

He’s wandered back to where Steve is standing, shifting the curtains aside to tuck them both inside their private little corner of the diner, away from prying eyes.

The half-finished glass of water waits patiently on the table, the two seemingly innocent chairs a leap of faith for them to take.

A beat of silence. Then:

“Do you _really_ wax poetic about me?” Steve blurts out.

Tony laughs, the tension loosening in his chest. 

He hadn’t quite believed it when Bucky had said that Steve had waxed poetic about him. Whatever this new, rocky thing was that they both wanted, they were figuring it out together, and something about that calmed Tony enough.

Steve _wants_ Tony.

That was a chance Tony never dared to hope for. Now that he knows he’s always had a chance all along, he holds on tight to that knowledge.

“I have hidden depths,” Tony winks. “Did you really think you needed practice at dating?”

“I’m going to kill Bucky.”

“You can do that after I send him a fruit basket.”

Steve shakes his head ruefully, but the tightness of his shoulder eases too, and he steps closer to Tony, pulling out one of the chairs. 

“Have dinner with me?”

There have been a million variations of this moment crafted by Tony’s rebellious mind. None of them quite captured the soft flush of Steve’s cheeks, or the gentle rumble of his words, or the depths to which he meant the question.

“See?” Tony moves to sit, their hips brushing. “You don’t need practice. You’re doing perfect.”

Another small laugh. Steve takes his own seat, shifting around slightly as he struggles with the praise. 

“We’ve only been doing this for three minutes. Lots of time for things to explode.”

“You’re with me,” Tony assures. “Explosions come with the package.”

“The explosions balance out the monotony of briefings,” Steve teases back.

“Next time I blow something up, I’ll tell the world that Captain America needs to be entertained.”

“There _are_ other ways to keep me entertained, you know.”

Tony snorts to cover his own flush. 

He didn’t think it was possible to adore Steve even more, but now that they’ve settled into their usual banter, things flow almost frighteningly natural. 

The only reason it isn’t frightening is because he’s doing this with _Steve_. He trusts Steve, and that’s enough for him to forget his fears for the moment.

They order – Tony’s words cut off as Steve orders for him. Something light flutters in him as he realises that this is proof. Proof that Steve had been paying attention all along.

They talk about familiar things – the last Avengers battle, ideas for new strategies, DUM-E’s favorite drawing from Steve, gossip about the Tower’s betting pool and Natasha’s ongoing op. They talk about things they never would have talked about before, too: how that one time Steve broke a glass because he had been too busy paying attention to Tony, how Tony spent hours trying to figure out what footage it was that had tarnished his reputation in Steve’s eyes.

That led to them laughing about each other’s foolishness. The mad dancing on the Senate table debacle was explained, and Steve tells Tony more about his Howling Commandos. There were a few strained moments scattered throughout, both of them unused to this intimacy, but as they walk out of the diner to wait for Happy’s car on the curb – Steve paying, Tony tipping an equal amount – Tony feels afloat.

“That was nice,” he tries, and fails, to sound nonchalant.

To his pleasure, Steve ducks his head, clearly happy too. “We should do it again.”

“You want to?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles. Then, he gestures vaguely down. “May I?”

There was nothing on the ground. Tony looks up. “What?”

“Hold your hand?”

Tony doesn't bother to reply. 

He reaches out for Steve’s hand himself, using it to pull him in, kissing him hard and desperate and pushing for more.

A passerby whistles as they walk past them. Tony ignores them all, too entranced to possibly notice.

It’s impossible to think beyond Steve's touch when Steve cups Tony’s jaw reverently, thumb sweeping across the curve of his dimples, the crinkles of his eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that since forever,” Steve confesses.

Tony grins bright.

“Then keep doing it.”

* * *

“Did they kiss?” Rhodey groans, flipping through various screens.

Bucky scowls at the now useless video feeds. 

“We don’t know. There’s no cameras on the curb and Happy’s not answering.”

“Is it time to call Pepper?” Sam suggests.

A grim determination settles over Rhodey. Not all hope is lost. An intervention can still be staged. 

“There’s still time left tonight,” he points out.

Unhelpfully, Bucky shrugs. “This is a disaster.”

“It’ll be an even bigger disaster if – ”

The elevator _dings_ cheerfully.

They turn to it, cautious. The Tower's security is immaculate, but as superheroes, the need for vigilance has been drilled deep into them.

The doors slide open, and –

Steve is pressed against the elevator wall, three of his buttons undone.

Tony’s legs are wrapped around him.

And the noises –

“What are you _doing?_ ” Bucky stares.

“I thought you wanted us to kiss?” Steve has the _audacity_ to ask.

He makes no move to leave the elevator, too busy holding Tony up with one hand, his other hand caressing parts of Tony that none of them would like to think about.

“In private!” Rhodey protests. “You don’t defile my friend’s honor in public, Rogers.”

“With all due respect, sir, you told me to make him happy.”

To their horror, Tony chimes in.

“And I was _really_ happy until you all made him stop.”

Rhodey has had enough. He’ll have his ‘ _I told you so_ ’ moment with Tony later. For now, it’s been a long night of watching them stumble around each other, and he has no desire to watch any more than that.

“JARVIS, close the elevators and take them to the penthouse.”

“You're the best, Rhodeybear!” Tony shouts as the doors slide close with another cheerful chime.

“Thank _god_ ,” Sam breathes out. “I did _not_ need to see even more of Steve.”

Bucky sighs. “Agreed.”

Rhodey gives himself exactly ten more seconds to bask in his success. 

He's sure that Steve is _the_ one for Tony, so his most important mission is over, but there is one last mile to go before he can call it a day.

He takes a deep breath.

“Right,” he wheels around at Bucky and Sam, giving them his sternest look.

“What?” Sam asks, slightly alarmed.

“I need to plan my schedule for the next two months.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“That depends,” Rhodey gives them a choice. “Do I have to do all that for you too, or are you gonna kiss like normal people?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam turns to Bucky: is Tony going to pay for our blind date?  
> Bucky: well. Pepper's budget for this project was $100k.  
> Rhodey: thank GOD. you know where the credit card is.  
> Rhodey: just keep your kisses away from me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this chapter was very fun and therapeutic for me, there may be a fourth chapter for this featuring some twitter conversations between the jameses, but we'll see! the main plot's done here though, and i hope you all enjoy this unrepentant, self-indulgent fluff and the second batch of slides :)

“Captain Handsome or Captain Hotpants?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Steve smiles, shaking his head. Tony’s hair is still mussed from sleep, and he’s half-slumped on the kitchen counter, coffee cup firmly in hand with JARVIS’ screens all around him. Making a beeline for the counter, Steve slides into the seat next to Tony and places his bounty right in front of his face.

Comically, Tony’s eyes widen.

“Are these – ” 

“From the shop in Queens, yes,” Steve opens the box, and Tony very nearly moans, the warm, sweet scent of melted powdered sugar filling the kitchen. He reaches out to take a donut, but Steve catches his hand easily, moving it away and trying his hardest to resist Tony’s pout.

“Do you want a kiss first?” Tony asks, half amused and half confused. It’s a rare day that Steve dares to stand between Tony and his donuts.

Steve puts Tony’s hand down in his lap, enjoying the presence of it there. Then, he reaches into the box and chooses the biggest, most sugary donut of the dozen, bringing it up in front of Tony’s lips. “You ruined my breakfast in bed plans by waking up early,” he explains as Tony takes a bite, Tony nipping at the tips of Steve’s fingers in retaliation for the delay. “Doesn’t mean I can’t feed you breakfast anyway.”

“The one day I decide to wake up early, you complain, Steven,” Tony grumbles around his mouthful of donut, “I’ll start thinking that you like me sleeping in.”

Shrugging, Steve takes a bite of the donut, too, mindful not to take too much. He’s hungry after the rush to get the first batch from the oven, but he can have something more filling later. These are special for Tony, with a request for extra sugar. “I like knowing my fella is well-rested, and you _are_ adorable when you’re sleepy.”

Try as he might, Tony can’t properly glare at Steve. “You’re going to pay for that, Rogers.”

“I can take you just fine,” Steve challenges unabashedly.

Tony grins, grabbing Steve’s outstretched wrist and dragging the remaining piece of donut into his mouth, taking it whole with a wink. “That’s why I love you,” he says, cheeks full and eyes bright, “but don’t forget that _I_ can take _you_ too.”

“I remember.”

Placatingly, Steve holds up another donut, which Tony eagerly takes.

“So, Captain Handsome or Captain Hotpants?”

“For what?” Steve asks, shifting his chair closer to Tony’s so he can comfortably wrap his free arm around Tony’s waist.

It’s hard to believe that only two months ago, he had been wallowing in his misery at believing that Tony wasn’t his to have. Settling against each other had been as easy as it was hard.

After all, they had spent these past years beside each other already, as Avengers and friends, and while their shouting matches still continued, they were also learning how to compromise, how to be gentler with each other, freed from the lurking shadow of their hidden feelings.

Now, Tony understands that Steve gets excessively worried not because Steve doesn’t trust him, and Steve understands that Tony spends so much time in the labs working on improved Avengers gear out of the same need to protect.

And now, their fights end less with Steve punching a bag in the gym, and more with them taking the elevator to the penthouse.

“I’m going to post something online,” Tony grins wickedly.

He waves at one of the screens that has a half-finished Tweet on it, and Steve tilts his head dubiously.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve made your choice already.”

Laughing, Tony shrugs innocently. “I wanted to give you an illusion of choice.”

“How kind of you,” Steve drolly replies. He steals some of Tony’s coffee to wash down the sugar in his mouth, wondering not for the first time how Tony could see straight after all those sinfully sweet donuts. “But I’m your most adoring fan. Your other fans can wait.”

Tony takes a bite of the chocolate donut Steve’s now holding out in front of him. “You’re a sap,” he complains.

Not wanting to admit what they both know to be true, Steve pokes Tony’s nose with the bitten end of the donut, smearing some of the powder on it as Tony swats his arm away with a disgruntled, “ _hey!_ ”

“You started it,” Steve tells Tony with all the maturity of a ninety-four-year-old, laughing at the chocolate spot on Tony’s face.

“Well,” Tony casts around for a more mature reply, finding none. “If you don’t stop, we’re going to be late for the mission briefing,” he mutters half-heartedly.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Since when did _you_ care about them?”

“Since you turned me into a semi-responsible person.”

Steve kisses him hard. “I love you.”

“Oh for god’s _sake_.”

“Stop defiling my friend in the common kitchen.”

Bucky and Rhodey stand in the entryway of the kitchen, arms crossed resolutely.

“It’s my kitchen,” Tony argues, “and that was quite vanilla of us.”

“Technically and literally,” Steve gestures at the vanilla donuts.

Uncrossing his arms and heading for the coffee machine, Rhodey pours himself a mug – an old habit from their shared college days. He shakes his head, waking himself up before he turns back to Tony and Steve’s semi-intertwined bodies with a more determined look.

“Pepper’s asked us to warn you both that her hundred thousand budget for you both is running out.”

Steve frowns. “She has a budget for us?”

“Getting the media to not release pictures of Captain America groping his boyfriend in public is quite expensive,” Bucky explains dryly.

“Excuse you,” Tony shoots back, “that’s Captain _Handsome_ for you.”

“Okay, we’re doing this now,” Rhodey says, abandoning his coffee. He marches over to the kitchen counter and commandeers JARVIS’ screens. “Bucky, get Sam down here.”

“Wait, no,” Tony stops him. “Buckaroo, do you like plums?”

“What?”

“I haven’t sent you a thank you fruitbasket.”

Rolling his eyes, Rhodey answers for him. “You can thank us by not making us hear _and_ see too much of what you’re doing to each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“JARVIS, bring up the powerpoint slides, will you?”

“It’s my Tower. My name is on the building,” Tony scrunches his nose.

Rhodey steals a donut from the box. “Yes, but Pepper’s name is on the _lease_.”

Tony squawks indignantly, glaring at the donut in Rhodey’s hand. “I’m betrayed.”

“Can’t I show my fella that I love him?” Steve asks, all wide-eyed and faux innocence. He wraps his hand tighter around Tony, pulling them even closer together.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Bucky flatly says, but his lips twitch up, betraying his amusement. “You have a bedroom for a reason.”

“I _can_ lock you out of the Tower, you know,” Rhodey reminds.

Tony grins. “I think our fans would be very happy with us kissing out on the streets.”

Sam walks into the kitchen, sighing. “Did we exchange one demon for another?”

“Who are you calling a demon?” Tony protests.

“If Bucky and Sam can keep it in their pants,” Rhodey starts, “you both can too.”

Tony pretends to consider that for a long moment, leaning into Steve’s chest contentedly. “What about a bargain: Bucky and Sam may keep it out of their pants, and we can too.”

Rhodey snorts, caught between laughter and disbelief. “We are _not_ starting a harem.”

“Not you,” Tony grins. “Me,” he points to himself. “My partner,” he kisses Steve. “And our potential allies,” he waves at Bucky and Sam.

Shaking his head fondly, Rhodey relents. “Whatever you’re planning, plan it _away_ from me. I need to have plausible deniability.”

“We’ll invite you to the grand opening, Platypus.”

“I’ll arrange for VIP seat for you, Colonel,” Steve grins, ever the supportive partner.

Bucky turns to Sam, and Sam points a stern finger at him. “Don’t you _dare_ encourage them.”

“Sorry Stevie, you’ll have to start your harem without us.”

“Why do I even live here?” Rhodey laments, returning to his coffee and draining the mug.

Tony answers easily around his next donut. “Because you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

The reply comes as a matter of fact. A truth.

Something flicks between them, a switch as Rhodey’s eyes soften, fond in a way that had shattered through Tony all those years ago, that never fails to fill Tony’s overused heart to the brim. This was his Rhodey, his friend, his brother, his family in all the ways that mattered, and then some.

This was Rhodey’s way of making sure that Tony got the gentleness he deserved.

 _There’s no need to flaunt it_ , Rhodey’s message comes through clear, _this is yours to have. Let it_ be _yours._

But Tony has spent so long hiding his love for Steve that he can’t find it in himself to hold back much of his feelings any more. It feels like such a privilege to be loved by Steve – to be allowed to love in return – that Tony cherishes any chance to touch, any chance to have these little moments of breakfast in between the messy chaos of their lives.

Still, he smiles a _thank you_ to Rhodey, grateful as ever for his constance. “Well then. If you love me, will you attend the gala Pep’s forcing me to go to next week?”

“No,” Rhodey says with an utmost finality. “You have someone else who loves you that can go for you.”

“We’ll go together,” Steve promises Tony, “it’ll be like the old days, but funner.”

“No thanks,” Bucky follows suit, backing out of the kitchen altogether. “I have no desire to go back staring at Tony’s ass for you, Steve.”

Sam happily lets himself be pulled away by Bucky. “Damn right. He has my ass to look at.”

With another rueful laugh, Rhodey flicks on the coffee machine for another round he knows they’ll all need. Then, he makes his way out of the kitchen too, pausing at the entryway to give Steve his most dangerous glare, the one that could send the entire Air Force quivering.

“Treat him right, Steve,” Rhodey orders. “And enjoy yourselves. I’ll handle whatever monsters come our way today. Just get the teenage touchy-touchy out of your system before Pep has to raise your legal budget.”

Tony laughs incredulously. “Did Rhodey just give you the shovel talk?”

Steve salutes Rhodey as the Colonel leaves. “He’s given me the shovel talk ten times.” Taking Tony’s hand, he laces their fingers together, squeezing tight. “That was a command I’m happy to follow.”

“Yeah? You have plans?”

“Nothing much. Just planning on you.”

“You’re lucky I’ve got a creative mind.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m lucky you’re _you._ ”

* * *

Bucky takes a sip out of his champagne.

They’d all been dragged to the latest charity gala, and Sam is off mingling with other veterans, Bucky content to linger in the sidelines with Rhodey as they watch the room together.

Rhodey helpfully hands him a plum cupcake. “Look at them. They grow up so fast.”

In the middle of the dance floor, Steve spins Tony in his arms before they sway gently against each other as the song winds down. Their fiery moments of passion have changed into this – equally passionate moments, just less showy and more intimate.

It used to enrage some people when they saw Steve and Tony kissing almost lewdly in broad view, but no one would be able to say anything against something as tender as the look in Tony’s eyes or the _entirely_ respectful hold Steve had around his waist.

The tactical genius of it was brilliant: the perfect mix of Tony’s cheek and Steve’s penchant for subversion.

If anything, they were more publicly affectionate than ever – only, they did so in a way that nobody could tell them to stop doing.

“They’re stubborn,” Bucky nods with a proud fondness. “But they turned out alright.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey hums absently as he squints at Natasha and Pepper, standing suspiciously close beside each other

Bucky frowns. “What?”

Rhodey grins at him. “Are you up for some more teamwork?”

The song ends.

Steve brings Tony’s hand up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss across the back of it as the room applauses. Bruce drags Thor over to where Pepper and Natasha are laughing about something, eyes bright with things unsaid.

A matching grin spreads across Bucky’s face.

“Let me go get Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you can't see the powerpoint slides, you can find them [here on my tumblr](https://starklysteve.tumblr.com/tagged/my-edits) :)


End file.
